by Joy Nash
Alex groaned.
“I’ll take her to the ladies’ room,” Leigh said with a laugh. She grabbed Sophie’s hand. “We’ll meet you guys back here.”
“I’ll go get some caramel corn in the meantime,” Alex said. He loped off in the other direction, leaving Tori and Johnny alone.
Johnny watched them go. “They’ll be a while. Want to walk up the Boardwalk a bit?”
“All right.”
They left the amusement pier to stroll on the Boardwalk between the bright casinos and the dark sea. For a long while, Johnny remained uncharacteristically silent.
“Something wrong?” Tori asked.
He hesitated, then sighed. “I guess I’m not going to be able to keep it a secret from everyone for long. I quit my day job. Right after I stumbled on your fight with Nick.”
“You quit Santangelo Construction?” Tori came to halt, forcing him to stop and turn back. “I certainly hope it wasn’t because of me.”
“No. Not really. It’s been coming for a while. Nick and I just don’t get along.”
He was bleaker than Tori had ever seen him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I hated that job. I probably never should have taken it in the first place.” He studied her, his eyes grave. “Tori, I wanted to talk to you about something. Nick told me you’re planning to have a baby.”
“Johnny—”
“And I wanted to tell you I think that if that’s what you want, then you should go for it. I’ve seen you with Sophie. You’d make a great mom.”
Her belly twinged. But she wasn’t sorry she’d chickened out at the last minute. It hadn’t felt right to go ahead with the insemination. Not when she was so obsessed with Nick. But where were she and Nick now? Nowhere.
“Please,” she said. “Could we talk about something else?”
He searched her face, and for a moment she thought he was going to pursue the subject. Then his expression morphed, and he was back to being Johnny the comic.
“Okay. Enough about you, then. Let’s talk about me.”
She chuckled. “All right. What about you?”
They started walking again. “The Franklinville Hospital screen test is coming up and I’m nervous as hell.”
“I thought actors were supposed to be nervous. Doesn’t it give you an edge or something?”
He darted a glance in her direction. “That’s a crock.” Then, “It’s a love scene, you know.”
“What is?”
“The screen test. It’s a scene between a new character, a street-tough surgeon named Gavin Hunter, and Macey Lark, the reporter.”
“Macey Lark? I’ve seen her on the show. She’s gorgeous.”
“And tough. She’s investigating Hunter and threatening to go public with the skeletons in his closet. But she’s hot for him, too, which is a problem.”
“I’ll bet.”
He moved closer. “He wants her just as badly. In fact, Hunter can’t seem to keep his hands off Macey. And she doesn’t mind at all.”
Tori snorted.
“The scene for the screen test is set at the hospital charity ball.”
Without warning, Johnny swung around and caught Tori about the waist, twirling her in a circle. Tori grabbed his shoulders and shrieked. The smiley-faced flower tumbled out of her hand.
“Johnny! What are you doing?”
In lieu of an answer, he waltzed her across the Boardwalk, scattering the crowd. “Okay, so picture this. Dr. Hunter’s at the ball. He sees Macey across the room, talking to one of the hospital’s biggest benefactors. Hunter’s afraid of what Macey might let drop to Mr. Moneybags, so he interrupts their potentially damning conversation and drags her onto the dance floor.”
“How resourceful.” Tori shrieked as Johnny dipped her.
He pulled her upright and grinned. “Hold on tight.”
He twirled her dizzily past an older couple, who turned to stare as they flashed by.
“Dr. Hunter maneuvers Macey into a dark corner of the ballroom,” Johnny said. “No dark corners here on the Boardwalk, so we’ll have to improvise.”
He danced them to the top of the steps leading down to the beach, upon which Johnny scooped Tori into his arms and ran down the stairs.
“You’re nuts!” She clung to his neck.
“Funny, that’s just what Macey tells Hunter. How did you know?”
A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “Put me down.”
He waggled his brows. “My pleasure.” Then he released her with excruciating slowness, sliding her down the length of his body until her feet touched the sand.
“Johnny…”
“Okay, Tori, work with me here. You’re Macey; I’m Hunter. The scene goes like this: You accuse me of murder. I tell you to keep your nose out of things you don’t understand. You threaten to splash my story all over the front page of the Franklinville Gazette. Ready?”
“What? You want me to act this out with you? I don’t know what to say!”
“Doesn’t matter. Just ad-lib. I’ll fill in the rest.”
“I can’t—”
His expression morphed from playfulness to anger. “Macey, I’m warning you: Don’t do this.”
Tori blinked. In less time than it took a heart to pulse a single beat, Johnny Santangelo had vanished. In his place was a man who was grim and dangerous, with haunted blue eyes and tension radiating from his lean body.
Dr. Gavin Hunter, a man with a secret to protect.
“Go to the press,” Hunter growled, “and you’ll regret it.”
“I…” Tori floundered for a response. “Um…I’ll regret it more if I stay silent.”
Johnny stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at him. “You think I killed Frank Dermott, don’t you?”
“I’ve…I’ve seen the evidence.”
“Evidence can be faked.”
“Was it faked? I’m not so sure about that.”
He scowled. “It’s not what you think.”
“But, Johnny—”
“Gavin,” he corrected, breaking character to give her a quick grin.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” She drew a breath and started over. “But, Gavin, I saw the police report with my own eyes. I saw the evidence. It’s an open-and-shut case, unless…unless you can give me something to go on. Something to make me believe in you.”
A breeze fluttered past, blowing a curl into Macey’s—or Tori’s—face. Hunter—or was it Johnny?—tucked it behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek. Traced a path to her lips.
“Macey.” His voice was low and rough as he cradled her head in his hands. “Facts don’t mean anything. You can have all the facts in the world, and still not see the truth. And the truth is this….”
His gaze dropped to her lips.
And then he kissed her.
Nick pushed through the revolving door, glad to exchange the stale atmosphere of the air-conditioned casino for the blast of humid sea air that greeted him on the Boardwalk. His dinner meeting with his potential client had taken longer than he’d expected, and he’d had a hell of a time concentrating on the business at hand.
All he could think of these days was Tori.
The Boardwalk was packed—another hour or so and fireworks would burst over the Steel Pier. He threaded his way through the crowd, working his way toward the railing on the ocean side of the Boardwalk. When he reached it he stood for a moment, just staring over the beach at the darkening ocean.
What was Tori doing tonight? Was she spending the Fourth with her friends? Or sitting home, alone and lonely? More important, was she already pregnant? He counted back to the night he’d found her curled up in bed, her face drawn with pain. A little more than two weeks ago.
Was it already too late to stop her? Maybe not. Maybe he should head over to her place. Try to talk things out. Maybe if he laid all his cards on the table, as Alex had suggested, he could make her listen to reason. Maybe…
And then he saw her.
&nbs
p; She wasn’t home at all. Or with Chelsea and Mags. She was right there below him, on the beach, standing in the shadow of the access stair. She wasn’t facing him, but he had no doubt it was her. She was wearing a hot-pink halter dress he’d seen before. A bright streak of color against the sand.
Then he recognized the man she was with.
Johnny.
Nick went still. Tori’s conversation with his brother looked intense. Too intense. Johnny was leaning close. Too close. Nick stared as his brother framed Tori’s face in his hands.
And then he kissed her.
Johnny’s lips covered Tori’s. His fingers sifted through her hair, coaxing her closer. Her feet slipped in the soft sand. She lost her balance and pitched against his chest.
Oh, my God.
What was happening here? Dr. Gavin Hunter kissing reporter Macey Lark? Or Johnny Santangelo kissing Tori Morgan?
Which did she want it to be?
She liked Johnny. A lot. She appreciated his good humor and honesty, and his ability to share freely what was in his heart. He was sensitive and artistic. Spontaneous. He liked late-night walks on the beach, was willing to believe in magic, and he could charm the salt out of the Atlantic.
He might’ve been Tori’s perfect man, except for one tiny detail.
He wasn’t Nick.
There. She’d finally admitted it. She was in love with Nick Santangelo. Hopelessly, ridiculously in love. She didn’t want to be—she’d known from the first it would be a bad idea—but there it was.
She drew back gently, breaking the kiss. Johnny’s arms relaxed, but he didn’t release her completely. She caught a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes before the mischievous glint returned.
“How’d I do? Think I’ll get the part?”
“I’m sure of it,” Tori said weakly. “They’d be crazy not to—”
“Goddamn it, get your hands off her.”
She froze, heart pounding into her throat. She met Johnny’s eyes.
“Nick,” she whispered, not turning.
Johnny’s expression hardened as his gaze shifted to a point behind her. His hands stayed exactly where they were, on Tori’s bare shoulders.
“Yo, bro. ’Sup?”
Tori turned slowly. And there Nick was, not three strides away, glaring down at her. His frown was so intense his eyebrows were nearly a single dark slash over his angry eyes. She took in his navy blue business suit. She’d never seen him dressed so formally. His shirt was white, his necktie dark and unimaginative. Of course.
He looked wonderful.
Johnny still had one hand on her shoulder. Nick’s arm shot out, colliding with Johnny’s chest. “Get away from her. Now. She doesn’t need to be mauled by the likes of you.”
Johnny stood his ground. “What Tori and I do is none of your business.”
“Like hell it isn’t.” Nick took a menacing step and caught a fistful of Johnny’s Hawaiian shirt. His left arm drew back, fingers clenched.
Tori made a grab for his forearm. “Don’t you dare hit him!”
“Damn it, Tori.” Snarling, he shook her off. “This is between me and Johnny.”
“No! He’s your brother! I won’t let you hurt him!”
“Hey, I’m not too proud to accept help from a girl. I’ve got a pretty face to protect.” Johnny smirked, but his stance had widened, and his eyes were deadly serious. The muscles in his forearms flexed, his hands fisting. “Hold him for me, Tori, why don’t you, while I beat some sense into him.”
And then, without waiting for assistance, Johnny let loose a wicked right hook.
His fist connected with Nick’s jaw. There was the sickening sound of knuckles smacking flesh.
“Umph…” Nick’s head whipped to the left as the air vacated his lungs. He took a stumbling step back.
Tori stared, stunned beyond speech, her own breathing completely stalled.
Nick recovered quickly, regaining his balance in the soft sand. Johnny stood, chest heaving, hands fisted at his sides, eyes wary.
Slowly, Nick brought his hand to his lower lip and touched blood. He stared in disbelief at the crimson smudge on his fingers.
Then he seemed to snap. “You little shit…”
His arm went back. Tori snapped from her shocked daze. “No!” she screamed, springing forward. She leaped at Nick’s arm and hung on. “Don’t you dare hit him back!”
“Let him go, Tori. I’m ready for him.” Johnny’s fists flexed.
“Shut up,” Tori told Johnny. “Just shut up. I can’t believe this—the two of you brawling on the beach like teenagers. Cut it out now or…or…or I’ll tell Rita! And Nonna, too!”
Nick swore. “Fine.” He jerked his arm down so abruptly that Tori, who was still holding on, lost her grip on his coat sleeve.
She stumbled, and Nick caught her.
She smelled alcohol on his breath. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Not nearly enough for this kind of shit.” His eyes bored into her as his arm tightened around her waist. “What the hell are you doing, Tori, kissing that lowlife?”
She tried to disentangle herself from his embrace, and failed. “I’ll kiss who I want.”
“Like hell you will.”
Johnny snorted, arms crossed over his chest, regarding his brother with some disgust. “Did I stumble onto the set of 10,000 B.C.? Did I miss the part where Tori went up for sale? Back off, Nick. You don’t own her.”
“She’s got better things to do than slum in public with you.”
“Like what? Sit by the phone and wait for you to call?”
Nick’s jaw worked. Tori had a clear view of the vein bulging at his right temple.
He let her go and took a step back. Tori stood, locked in place by his eyes. There were so many emotions there. She couldn’t even begin to sort them out. But she did see fear, and a good measure of lust.
Something deep inside her heart clenched.
“Come on, Tori.” Johnny grabbed her elbow. “We’ve gotta find the others before the fireworks start.”
The fireworks had already started, as far as she was concerned.
“You go ahead.” She rooted around in her purse and found a tissue. Going up on tiptoe, she blotted the blood from Nick’s lip. “Nick’ll drive me home…won’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said thickly. “I will.”
Johnny blew out a long breath. Tori could see him moving at the edge of her vision. “Damn it, Tori. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
She didn’t, she realized. She didn’t have a clue.
She and Nick left the Boardwalk, fighting the fireworks crowd. Nick took her hand as he shouldered his way through the throng, not speaking. He retrieved his truck from the casino valet, tossed his suit coat and tie behind the seat, and pulled onto Pacific Avenue. All still in silence.
They were halfway home when he flexed his hand on the steering wheel and sighed. “I was way out of line back there.”
She turned in her seat, facing him. “It wasn’t a real kiss, you know.”
His jaw locked. “Looked real enough to me.”
“We were practicing a scene for Johnny’s screen test.”
“Jesus, Tori. Please don’t tell me you really believe that.”
She didn’t answer.
“Johnny’s no good for you. He’s too young. Unstable. He’s got a week-to-week lease and no money in the bank. He falls in love with a different woman every couple months.”
“At least he talks to me. Unlike some people.”
A few heartbeats passed during which the temperature in the truck seemed to dip fifteen degrees. Finally, Nick answered. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Excuse me?” Tori put a hand to her ear. “What did you say?”
Nick shot her a look. “Nothing.”
“Was that an apology? Because if it was, please repeat it. It’s been so long since I’ve had the opportunity to faint dead away.”
“Very funny,” Nick muttered, his eyes fixed on the road
.
She stared at his profile, her chest tight and aching. She hated him like this, so cold and distant. She wanted to see his eyes spark with laughter. She wanted his slow, sexy smile.
She stared out the passenger window, blinking hard. The heavy, sodden silence hung between them as they approached her street.
But to Tori’s surprise, Nick didn’t drive to her house. Instead, he made a hard left and drove to the beach. The truck lurched to a stop at the seawall.
Tori braced her arm on the dashboard. “This is a no-parking zone.”
“Too bad.”
Nick’s hands still gripped the steering wheel. He stared straight ahead, though the road had come to an end.
“Did you do it yet?” he asked quietly.
She bit her lip. “Do what?”
The streetlight cast his face in harsh angles. “Don’t jerk me around, Tori. You know what I’m talking about.”
She swallowed. “No,” she said. “I didn’t do it.”
Nick’s grip relaxed, but only slightly. “Why not? Isn’t it about the right time of the month?”
Tori shifted in her seat. I didn’t do it because I love you didn’t seem quite the thing to say.
“Yes, it’s the right time of the month. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought it seemed too…”—she cast around for the right word—“impersonal,” she finished lamely.
“So.” His voice was deadly quiet. “You’ve decided Johnny is less, what…impersonal?”
She sat up straighter. “Johnny? What are you talking about?”
“Johnny has no idea what it means to be a father, you know. None at all. He certainly won’t be the kind of father your child deserves.” His hands flexed again on the steering wheel. He shot her a grim look. “Stay away from him, Tori. You’ll only get hurt.”
Her jaw had gone slack. “You thought…You think…You think I want to get pregnant with Johnny?”
“Don’t you?”
“Of course not! We’re just friends.”
“Friends.” He laughed harshly. “Friends who put their tongues down each other’s throats. Either you’re an idiot or you think I am.”
“God,” she spit out. “You really are a jerk sometimes.”
“So you’ve said.”
She made a sound of frustration. “Johnny and I are just friends. Why can’t you believe that?”